Defection
by eternalshiva
Summary: The Templar Order had become a stranger to him. The violence that erupted throughout the spire had devastated his beliefs, destroyed the trust he held in the order's conformity.  Asunder Writing Competition Entry


_Disclaimer_ - Dragon Age Origins, Dragon Age: Awakening, Dragon Age: The Calling. Dragon Age 2 and all related DLC, characters, lore, and history featured in this story are not my property, but are the property of Bioware and the writers who created them. It is not the intention of this fan fiction author to participate in financial gain through this story. No copyright infringement is intended.

This was my entry for the Asunder Writing competition, I didn't win anything or make the top 20 but it was fun to try. I've edited the original, _so much repetition_... I can totally see all my mistakes now.

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><p><em><strong>Defection<strong>  
>by eternalshiva (Liedral BSN)<em>

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><p><em>Maker, the Spire has lost its mind.<em>

Grayson's eyes watered, itching from smoke that poured out of every open doorway. He coughed harshly to clear the burning sensation from his lungs, but he knew it was futile. He waved his hand to clear the haze that surrounded him, trying to catch a sense of where he was inside the chaos that had engulfed the very stone of the Spire. Once his bearings caught up to his confusion, his feet took flight towards the large oak doors to his right - they were still closed and untouched. Maybe... just maybe, he would make it in time.

The rapid metallic clink of his boots were swallowed eagerly by the cackle of magic that thickened the air. With every step, he could feel the dark pull of magic and he quickly came to the realisation that he couldn't _breathe_. He frowned sensing magic surrounding everything, ensnaring him. He took a deep breath, pulling at the pool of energy that lay dormant inside him. The pressure of a _Cleanse_ gathered under his skin and released at a sluggish pace he did not like -blue auras expelled from his body, flaring like a dome as bright as the sun. His mind almost sighed at the feeling and he was instantly rewarded with a quicker step.

_Force mages_, he concluded, shaking his head. They were trying to protect themselves against the insanity and he did not blame them for trying to slow their attackers. The Lord Seeker had lost it. There was no denying it when he had sent out the Templars like Mabari War Hounds against the gathered Mage leaders as they discussed their fate. There was no Right of Annulment sent or received; they had no right to slaughter the mages like cattle. An angry scowl marred his face before he slammed his full weight into the doors. _Now isn't the time to think on this_, Grayson chastised himself before fumbling miserably at the latch.

One, two seconds passed far too slowly as his shoulder rammed against the stubborn door with frustration. They were barred from the inside, a fact which gave him hope and complete despair at the same time. _Have the Templars already cleared this area?_ Worry spilled out from the confines of his careful control and etched itself on his face. For once, he did not hold back his emotions. There was no other Templar to see them.

With a final ram, he burst through the door, the sound of the wood cracked loudly against the stone wall of the Hall, splinters fell at his feet. _Was this the right way?_ He felt doubt crawl up his spine but it disappeared when he recognised the paintings, the books that adorned the shelves - _Yes, this was the right way_.

But... it was _quiet_, startling so.

Fear gripped him like the talons of a High Dragon when loud, angry voices echoed along the hall. He ran the opposite way - towards the apprentices chambers. He felt his heart drop every time the sound of metal resounded against the hollow of wood. The mages were toe to toe with their attackers.

Suddenly the hallway turned a bright and ominous blue, flooding everything around him, causing him to lose focus. Without warning, everything shook around him. The prickle of magic made his skin crawl when the space he stood in turned orange. Fires burst out of one chamber, swallowing the air greedily and, just as quickly, his breath froze as the thick hum of magic oppressed the very life in the hall. A scream burst through the roar of fire, the familiarity of the voice making him cringe involuntarily. It was Howard, his superior.

_Oh, Maker... _

Urgency flooded his veins, stumbling ungracefully as he descended the stairs two at a time - another mage had summoned an earthquake after Howard had become silent, he could hear the agonized moans, and a heart wrenching sob that shook him to the core.

Grayson fought with every inch of his being to stay upright, but it was pointless to do so. The spell was powerful and difficult for him to resist its effects. Somehow, he managed to make it through the hall, past the chaos of elements that plagued the Enchanters chambers.

He focused his attention on another set of large doors. Tremors still wrecked havoc on his balance, but he pulled the library doors open. Stepping inside, he could see the shelves lining the walls shaking. He paused, considering his options for a moment, before another scream solidified his resolve and he forged ahead. Books fell around him and the distinct sound of wood breaking caught his attention mere seconds before a shelf to his left collapsed on top of him.

His cry was muffled under the flood of books. The edge of the shelf caught his shoulder and the sharp bite of his metal pauldron tore his flesh and knocked him down. Stunned, he blinked his eyes listlessly as he felt the warmth of blood trickling down his arm - why hadn't he taken the time to don the protective mail?

Another mistake to add to his pile of regrets.

_Move it! _Maybe things were worse than he thought... but his dead wife's voice was ringing in his ears, urging him to pick himself up and to _move faster_. He shook himself free of the books and debris, stood on his feet once more and took off with renewed vigour. At least the ground had stopped shaking.

Thank the Maker for little miracles.

He reached the other side of the library with no further interruptions. Just a little further and he would be in the apprentice chambers. He stopped, carefully pulled the door open to avoid its creaking and listened.

Nothing.

_Please..._ he begged silently, _turn your gaze upon my plea and let me not be too late_.

He followed the darkened corridor, sweat trickling down his forehead as the fires heated the air. He slowed his pace to a walk, blowing a breath between his lips in an attempt to calm his mind. He could hear sounds up ahead, but there was something odd about them. In fact, he notice that the echo of his footfalls was all wrong. Grayson surveyed the path ahead of him and concluded that everything had slowed to a crawl, including sound.

_The same mage as before, _he thought as he recognized the sensation of this particular magic and the suffocating essence of its owner.

He reached for his sword, pulling his shield closer into a defensive stance. The Templar power inside him flickered to life, the song of lyrium hummed through the blood of his veins in anticipation as it shrouded the metal of his weapon as he came upon the site of the battle. The mage was gone, but two Templars were slowed mid-swing of their swords. One looked dead, the other barely, but Grayson did see the blood on the blades. The mage had not come out of the battle unscathed.

His eyes caught the blood trail, leading away from the Templars trapped in the _Gravity Ring_. The mage was headed in the same direction as him, which made him sweat a bit. He couldn't recall who used force magic among the apprentices.

_It doesn't matter, I need to get to her before they do._ He slipped past the lingering spell as it waned and ignored the two bodies that hit the ground hard. One groaned, the other remained grimly silent. He disappeared into the shadows of another room, the light snuffed out carefully by paranoia, but he would not be intimidated. White auras bellowed from his eyes as he walked through the darkness, a Holy Smite ready to be unleashed if he willed it.

He heard footsteps in the dark, a shuffle that dragged against the stone and a whimper that gave away the mage's position. He stilled, the mage could see him quite clearly with the white aura bellowing from his eyes like smoke. He listened, his breath slowed. He was blind and helpless in the darkness, but he was still a _Templar_. Goosebumps slid across his arms as the buzz of magic gathered, he felt the pull upon the Veil, and without delay he unleashed a powerful wave of aura that filled the whole room.

The mage groaned. A woman? He blinked in surprise, realising that it was one of the Enchanters.

"Nora?" he called out quietly, tentatively. She stilled, at the sound of the voice, she tried to flare up her magic, but there was nothing - she was empty of mana.

"_Templar,_" she hissed angrily at him, "come to finish the sloppy work of your brethren?" Her voice was broken, desperate - his heart squeezed. He could see her trying to conjure something within the protection of darkness. He felt his stomach drop, he didn't want to fight her.

"Nora, I'm not here to hurt you," he whispered loud enough for her to hear, he didn't want to bring attention to this room. To show his sincerity, she heard the clang of his shield and sword drop to the ground. She narrowed her eyes in cynical disbelief, but dropped her arms from their futilely raised position. Her hands moved to the wound at her stomach and she hissed again, this time in pain.

She had no mana to heal herself and she could feel her life slipping. "Where is Fay?" he approached her, his question hanging heavily between them.

"Fay?" she repeated, her senses swimming when she felt the pressure of a poultice against her wound. She was confused, why would he look for a child? She looked up and Grayson had removed his helm, leaning close to her to see if her wounds were healing. Nora had never seen him without it before, but even in the dark she could see enough details of his face to bring her to a startling realization.

"It's too late for me, Templar," she whispered with a sad smile. Her fingers leaned against his cheek momentarily, her blood imprinting itself there as though the life that was slipping away needed to remind someone she was not just a mage, but a human as well.

"Nora-"

"No." The tone of her voice was harsh, cutting through his stubbornness. "The children are down the hall. I was going to get them and go through the hidden path behind the armoire, in their room." He watched her and she sighed at the stubbornness he always exuded. "Take them from here. They cannot perish in this madness." She looked towards the door, the flicker of light under the door way alarmed her.

"More of them," she whispered causing fear to grip his chest as they passed the door in favour of the one leading to the next room. He picked up the elder mage and placed her gently in one of the beds before grabbing his sword and shield, racing out of the room.

He saw them - two Templars entering the room where the children were. He heard them shout, followed by another man that shouted back '_Over my dead body, blighted Templar'_. Grayson felt the distinct pull of magic and the buzz of pressure when an aura countered it. There was something strange about it, the Templar must have been too late because the spell still pushed through.

He flew into the room where one Templar was down. _Dead, maybe?_ There was rubble everywhere and the armour was crushed at the chest. The other Templar was battling the mage, a young man, perhaps one that was waiting for the Harrowing. He couldn't be sure.

It wasn't going well for the mage, and as the Templar brought down his sword, a flash of long black hair appeared between metal and wood.

_Oh no..._

"Fay!" he shouted, his little Fay, his little butterfly, fell to the ground with the Templar's sword embedded deep into her chest. He ran across the room, his feet unable to comprehend the urgency behind the need for more speed. The other Templar turned and, before he could even say anything, Grayson cracked the hilt of his blade across his skull, knocking him out. He fell to his knees before the small crumpled form on the ground as blood pooled under her delicate frame. His hands hovered over her, stilled in disbelief.

_Oh Maker, no - not her, not my little Fay_.

She was the last bit of sense left in Thedas after the Blight, after his wife had died. She was the reason he had joined the Templar order. He couldn't abandon her to the Circle when her powers came to be when she was all but four. She was so small, so frightened, then. He had resolved that moment to learn all he could to protect her.

Maker's breath _had he not suffered enough_?

He had just found her after all these years of training in the Chantry and now... now she was out of reach again. Tears stung his eyes as he gathered her to his chest, a heart-broken sob tore from him.

"Templar, sir?"

The grief-stricken man looked up, confused. The young mage stood above him, a small smile etched his lips as a soft green light enveloped the boy's hands. He blinked in surprise as he felt Fay's breath become stronger and flow of blood stopped.

"Take her quickly, here, through the escape tunnel," he pulled Grayson to his feet, still clutching the small mage to him. _Fine, she's... going to be fine,_ he repeated in his head. He followed the boy out of the room and into the tunnel. Minutes turned into hours as they made their way down the tower.

He found out the boys name was Sterling as the conversation had gone from strained to comfortable. Grayson could still hear the war raging inside the tower, but it didn't matter. What mattered was the small gift within his hands. She was alive and he would do everything to keep it that way.

As the boy led them out of the Spire's underground maze, Fay stirred in her sleep and Grayson clutched even tighter. The teen looked back, eyebrow raised in wonder. The former Templar smiled sheepishly, feeling his age suddenly creep up on him as exhaustion settled in.

"She's my daughter," he told him, but the mage said nothing. They marched in silence towards the open sky and Grayson's thoughts drifted to his teachings.

Templars were supposed to protect the mages, protect them from the influence of the Fade. Why had the Seeker sullied the order?

He frowned as his daughter slept. This was not what _he_ understood his Order to stand for. He looked ahead as the sun came into view.

He would support his daughter, the mages and their fight with all his might against The Seekers. And Maker help anyone that got in his way.


End file.
